


Memories and Moments

by KindlerOfStars



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy and Booker are mentioned, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flower Symbolism, Fluff, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Immortality, Light Angst, M/M, Memories, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindlerOfStars/pseuds/KindlerOfStars
Summary: How perspectives change with time and what memories remain.OrHow lilies remind Joe of Nicky, and what that means.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 16
Kudos: 246





	Memories and Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! First time posting for this lovely growing fandom, so here goes.  
>   
> I've been thinking about this movie for a week and while I haven't read the comics yet, I really needed to write about these two. Their relationship is just so... wow.  
> Enjoy!

Once you lived long enough, places and occasions tended to get mixed together, or, if especially uneventful, faded from memory entirely. Even people you held dear would be forgotten, sooner or later. Wars came and went, for conflict is a custom of humanity, as pledging unity and peace every hundred years or so is. Those ultimately faded too, apart from the indistinct scent of blood, the burning and the screaming that roamed their dreams at times.

Contrary to what most people would think (and to be fair, Joe did think like that once), what really stuck were the trivial things.

How Booker loved fiction books, for his increasing collection of stories, and how much he valued them when they were gifts. Particularly, and possibly ironically, ones that had been classics for decades or centuries.

How Andy treasured anything that anyone in their group made with their own hands. From a full painting of her, that Joe had done nearly 200 years ago, to Nicky's freshly baked pastries, she adored them all, wholeheartedly.

But there were also details that someone bound to a regular lifespan would discard, for the most part, in favour of other matters.

How the full moon's light glowed in his beloved's eyes, only making them more staggering.

How white lilies still grew near the coastline of what was once Nicky's home, a long time ago.

* * *

Joe and Nicky had been staying at their place in Genova for the past couple of months, ever since they opted to give Andy some space and arranged to reunite a year past.

Nicky had been cooking that day, which lead to Joe having to go grocery shopping for some missing ingredients, because apparently, they can’t keep their shopping lists straight.

It was a habitual trajectory through the busy streets of the city, one that required no more than muscle memory to navigate.

Passing by a flower shop, he noticed the displayed arrays, which were quite pretty, if not very exceptional for such a market area. Then, a particular arrangement caught his attention and his feet appeared to move of their own accord until he was standing in the middle of the establishment.

“Hello, welcome to Maria’s Flowers! How can I help you?” The florist was an older woman, probably in her sixties if he had to guess, seemingly the picture of a loving grandmother. “Maybe a bouquet for a lucky girlfriend?”

“Ah, no.” He paused to contemplate how to proceed.

What they referred to each other as in public came up occasionally in day-to-day situations, and had been a subject of some discussion. _Boyfriend_ , he felt, and Nicky agreed, was naive in essence, too narrow, too modern, and _too_ _simple_ to encompass what they have.

Still, and just as society's notions of propriety and decency shifted, theirs had not. Not for ages.

“I _am_ looking for a bouquet. Per il mio amato.”

To his - _very_ welcome - surprise, she seemed to take it in stride and nodded, glancing at the assorted selection of plants, a pensive expression on her face.

“I could help you with that if you would like. Is there anything in particular you are looking for, or something he likes?”

“White lilies.” They were Nicky's favourites, since they were a reminder of his home, and his mother. Lilies made him smile, and there was little that Joe held in higher esteem.

She hummed to herself for a few seconds, idly tapping her fingers on the counter. “White lilies are recurrent in christian themes, as a symbol of-”

“Purity. Yes,” he conceded. The words came out tense, just about defensive. Joe somewhat regretted the tone, yet the urge to be clear that he knew - _of course he knew_ \- just what they meant for them was heavier. “Similarly, strength, and long-lasting love.”

Maria smiled, the wrinkles on her aged face softening.

“You know flower symbolism well. I simply meant to say that adding red lilies could make a more colourful arrangement, with a firmer message. Unless you prefer to keep it softer?”

 _Ah._ “White ones then, mainly. They're… important to him. Although some red ones would not be unwelcome.”

“Splendid!”. She brought her hands together in satisfaction. “I'll just go to the back and get it done right away.”

Half an hour later he was making his way to the door, flower arrangement in his hands.

“I hope he likes them. He's a fortunate young man, to have such a thoughtful partner.”

Joe thanked her and left, waving her goodbye. He laughed too, inwardly, at her remark. It was nice to see there were good people, everywhere, in every time.

* * *

Immediately after entering their home, he felt a thick, sweet smell in the air. He left the groceries by the kitchen before walking to the living room, wrapping an arm around Nicky.

“You made Basbousa?”

Nicky snorted, tilting his head back from his spot on the couch. “I did. You like them. Shopping went well?”

Joe responded by bringing his other arm, and thus his prize, in front of him.

“A bouquet of lilies,” he said, grinning and leaning back again for a short kiss. “I feel spoiled.”

“Good. That was the point.”

They stood like that for a while, Nicky's arms around his, and Joe's head in the crook of his neck. But then again, as much as silence was a solace, Joe had learnt a long time ago that communication was a virtue for a reason.

“Do you miss them?”

Nicky sighed, gently disentangling himself from the embrace, and moved to get a vase for the flowers from the cabinet. He then stepped out to the balcony and let his back slide against the wall, until he was sitting on the floor.

He felt Joe taking a seat beside him before grabbing his hand. A minute passed sooner than Nicky devised a reply, barely heard above the city noise.

“In a way. I… can't recall their faces anymore. _Her_ face. Yet, I miss the care she had for me, if that makes sense.”

“It does. I get what you mean.” And he did. It was a specific type of longing that persisted beyond grief, inherent to their nature.

Joe leaned against him and soon, their foreheads rested together. He was content in remaining in that comforting position, relishing the gentle warmth that contrasted with the night's fresh breeze.

“You didn't need to do that, habibi.” Nicky's voice was soft and relaxed now, the tinge of sadness yielding considerably.

“They reminded me of you. You know I had to get them.”

“Oh?” He knew the underlying _why_ , it was one of thousands of truths they shared, but one couldn't blame him for being curious. Or for enjoying teasing the love of his existence.

“They shine under the sunlight. A delightful sight really.”

He chuckled in response and his breath tickled Joe's cheek.

“I see. My darling and incorrigible romantic, my knight in shining armour.”

“Well, technically, you _were_ the knight.”

“Ah, that's true,” Nicky agreed, beaming as if he had been given the stars.

He moved to cup Joe’s face with his hands, and when their lips finally met, Joe felt sheer elation spread through him like lightning. Nicky’s scent - fresh rain and cinnamon - left him breathless and his heart seized for a single beat. He dismissed it in an instant, for even if it ceased, it would beat anew for Nicky, for _his_ _Nicolo_ , as it always did, until their time - that they had long realized, as their reality was, it would be together - came.

His hands, tangled in Joe’s hair, were as an oath of reverence, a vow of eternity, that warmed him to his core, fuelling the faith he had in their connection. It was forever and it was everything.

With time, they settled back against the wall, facing the sky silently, up till Nicky started humming a low melody, light and familiar, which eventually changed into verses.

“While the Lily white shall in love delight.”

Joe smiled, tenderly caressing his cheek whilst answering. “Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.”

That was neither the first nor the last time they uttered this poem together. It spoke of love, in a way that resonated with them. It was less about fleeting lust, and more about a deeply rooted bond, an absolute, unrestrained kind of love that lasted throughout the millennia, and would continue to do so.

“You remember.” There was no inflection of a question, far from it, it was simply a light-hearted statement that he was used to making.

“How would I forget? It is rather hard, since you made a serenade out of it.”

“I did, did I not? Forgive me, it almost slipped my mind,” he said, smirking.

It hadn't, for neither of them, both of them knew it. It was one of those mundane yet unforgettable moments, forever burned in their memories across time, such as the one they were currently having.

And so, Joe laughed, earnest and carefree, like he only did with Nicky or in the presence of their family.

“And you say I'm the romantic one, Nicolo.”

“Hum. Perhaps we both are, Yusuf. I don't mind that. I never did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Comments are always welcome :)  
> Stay safe everyone.
> 
> The poem that appears here is "The Lily", by William Blake. I'll admit my poetry interpretation is probably not great, but I hope it worked.
> 
> My italian is rusty and I don't know much arabic, but I did some research to check if things were making sense.  
> Translations:  
> Per il mio amato - For my beloved.  
> Habibi - My darling/beloved.  
> (for better context, the terms above indicate endearment towards someone male)


End file.
